“Writing is one of the few professions in which you can psychoanalyse yourself, get rid of hostilities and frustrations in public, and get paid for it.” -Octavia Butler

You mean I’m supposed to get paid too?


Whiz, Bang, There he goes

So we visited Dad the other day, the first time my wife has seen him since he took his last fall.  I hadn’t recorded that here but it happened last Tuesday morning about 4am.  As he tells the story he woke up and was hot and sweating, blaming the electric blanket that he complained to me moments prior wasn’t keeping him warm.  Go figure.  So he’s all sticky now and thinks, hmm, maybe I should shower to clean up a bit before the care workers come to give him breakfast.

Now this is at 4 in the morning remember, not a time when lots of us take showers.  Sense my frustration? So anyway he manages the shower ok but when he step out of the shower onto the floor he puts his foot into a wet area that had collected because the shower curtain wasn’t positioned properly and spray had puddled on the floor.  Whiz, bang, there he goes, down on his left side, bruising his arm and shoulder and putting a gash in his head.  Luckily after further examination by a doctor they found nothing more serious but you can imagine the potential.

He’s feeling much better now, being about a week after the fact.  As long as he keeps getting some pain killers he is able to manage alright.  After the fall I was able to get him some additional T3’s prescribed by his doctor, without a visit mind you, and that was another story in itself.  What a harangue that would be.

I feel like I could get onto a roll here, preaching about the incompetence of so many but that is not productive and only adds to my frustration.  Never mind I feel like an idiot when I do it, I mean who do I think I am anyway??  It’s just that I feel that things could be soooo much better if people gave half a hoot about what happened in their circle of influence.  Maybe they do care but are just unable to accomplish what they want due to other circumstances.  That’s what I’ll choose to believe.

So long story short Dad is doing better physically, although I am becoming increasingly more conscious of his failing mental condition.  He certainly remembers his family and those around him but rapidly forgets more sporadic events and infrequent interactions.  As an example he went to the bank the other day to get out some money.  The teller wouldn’t give him any unless he produced his bank card.  Well, he told her he doesn’t have a bank card, he just wanted money out of his account.  Sorry sir, no card no money, or words to that effect.  Well, “doesn’t she know me” he asks.  “Why do they keep changing girls in there?”

Unfortunately he does have a bank card, he has used it a number of times, but he forgot it was in his wallet.  Once I explained all this to him again, and the fact he’ll likely have to use his PIN  to access his money, he wanted to write the PIN on the card so he’d remember it.  Calgon, take me away!

I know this is early onset Dementia, or so his earlier doctor said.  There is also likely some impact from the one or more small strokes he’s had.  Whatever the cause of the confusion it all adds up to an increased vigilance on my part and a higher level of attendance to his care.  All in all I’m grateful I can have this time with him, too soon he will be gone and I’ll be lamenting his departure.  Any reminder you can give toward that would be appreciated, I’m beginning to think it’s me that needs the help.

To Leave, or Not to Leave (Work)? That is the question

I am growing increasingly disillusioned in my working career.  In my current read “The Gifted Adult” I am at a point where the topic is about striving for self-actualization, and how it is important (or very important) for many of the gifted.  I would like to reach that point in my life, no question, nevermind whether I’m gifted or not.  I have my doubts I can do it from here.  Is it possible, Yes.  Do I have the interest or energy, No.  I feel as if I’m spinning my wheels here, and I don’t know if it is only me or the management of me.  I suspect a little of both.  I, and my tasks, are handled poorly or nonexistently, leaving me to my own device, much as a ship without a rudder.  As you can likely pick up I am very frustrated

I am also afraid, afraid I will be found out and really afraid to leave on my own accord.  When you have been employed at what is essentially your only job for 37 years you become accustomed to many things, one of which is a steady income.  My pension will not be small but neither are my financial responsibilities.  It will likely mean a radical adjustment of my spending and current lifestyle, to which I’ve become very accustomed.

I believe I am making progress in personal/emotional life, the depression is still likely there but more subdued.  I am realizing things about myself, acknowledging others.  It’s opening my eyes to what “should be”, and that is also causing me concern.  One thing I’m sure of, “Fools rush in where Angels fear to tread” – Alexander Pope


Long day, Travel and Hotels

It’s the end of what seems like a long day when in fact it’s likely no longer than normal. I’ve travelled from home to Toronto, via Calgary, and arrived unscathed. Frustrated perhaps but otherwise unharmed.

The bulk of my frustration, and it wasn’t a lot mind you, came when waiting for the hotel shuttle at Pearson airport. I called and they came, however there is apparently no shuttle from the airport to that particular hotel, the one my reservation is at, and the number I called to request a ride neglected to mention that. My bad I guess, I did not confirm which Sheraton I was talking to.

At any rate I stood on the curb, the cement waiting area populated with other tired commuters, watching a multitude of shuttles coming and going, waiting for my savior, my white knight coming to take me home. It came, not for me though, rather it came for me but not to take me to MY hotel. a cab was the only reasonable solution at that hour.

Needless to say I made it to my hotel, just shy of $50 poorer, and dropped my luggage in the room before heading back to the lounge for a nightcap and to read. I enjoy that, both the lounge and the reading, and find it a comforting way to end the day.

So that’s where I end it, blogging myself into sleep, listening to the cacophony of traffic whizzing by my room window. Almost like being there as the saying goes. Interesting that my room window is basically at freeway level, and I’m on the 4th floor. I’ve asked for an upgrade and am led to believe that may be possible tomorrow. I wait with bated breath.


Patience my son, patience

I’m recognizing my impatience in a number of circumstances lately and I need to determine if it is the particular circumstances and/or person involved, or is it me over-reacting to the situation?  I will need to do some real soul searching.  Mostly this seems to occur with my wife, and I certainly don’t want to beat her up, because I think that kind of reaction is what contributed to this in the first place.  I think even she would agree she had some esteem issues, and my commenting or trying to fix whatever is causing me frustration will likely not make it any better.

In this particular case we went for a bike ride, supposedly a relaxing event.  She was all keyed up with some work issues and frequently commented on how stressed she was, and how riding the bike was stressful (she relates it to a previous motorcycle accident we had), and how the bumpy dirt road caused her stress, etc..  It just was a bit overkill in my miind, but I said nothing and tried to be supportive.  I don’t know if I did that part well, or if she noticed. Of course all this happens when we are trying to get ready for camping too, which we (hopefully) leave for tonight.

So the bottom line is whether I can help her in any way, without feeding her anxiety.  Can I deter her from being as dramatic?  Is it just me.

I do know that one of the characteristics of Xi or giftedness is an impatience with others, I certainly am seeing that.



The last number of days have been pulling me down. Many issues with my father’s care are demanding time and energy, energy I want to expend toward my own mental health. I chose the word “want” because that’s the choice I feel is warranted. I “want” to be there for my Dad too, but it’s beginning to be unhealthy for me, my frustration and my bitterness is growing toward him. I can understand how children with elderly parents living with them can be driven to do things they never thought they could. I don’t condone nor approve, nor do I think it is in any way good or normal, I can just see how the bubble can grow until it ruptures. That in itself makes me sad.


Dad again

Well Dad’s had his assessment and it sounds like he’s a good candidate for assisted living.  I think we are well on our way to having him move closer to us, soon I hope, but there are still a few hurdles that need to be crossed.  The current one is getting his current tax info.  He can’t remember if/when he’s had it done though and that is making the task a little more difficult.  We will persevere though, these are not tasks that are impossible only challenging, especially from a distance.

The whole situation causes me to have many emotions though, frustration is a big one, along with sadness, grief over loss, anxiety, and some optimism of all things.  Hope that he will make it long enough to come live near us, and in a small way I just want it all to end.  It makes me tired and stressed.


Frustrated, Trying to teach

So Mo is very overwhelmed today, she has a new/additional job and it is causing her a lot of stress, and her learning curve is very steep.  She has asked me for some help on the computer and I have offered suggestions however she is so stressed she is having a hard time hearing me.  Yes, it’s true that the way I am communicating is possibly not effective, or it is too much information in a short period of time.  It is also frustrating for me.

I find this occurs frequently and although it’s been said to me many times that I should be a teacher I often feel a similar frustration in trying to maintain my patience when teaching things to people.  I’m sure it’s a problem primarily when trying to explain something to family, and worse the closer they are.  I just wish I knew why.